Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Libya and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing John Lydon to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul II Soul record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris Corsano,
Eddi Front,
Crash Course in Science,
The Golliwogs,
Brothers Johnson,
Boredoms,
Au Pairs,
Johnny Clarke,
Suicide,
the Normal,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Blackbyrds,
The Barracudas,
Soft Machine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stetsasonic,
Cluster,
Henry Cow,
Stereo Dub,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bauhaus,
Quando Quango,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Robert Hood,
Trumans Water,
Nik Kershaw,
Deadbeat,
Kurtis Blow,
The Birthday Party,
Tim Buckley,
The Beau Brummels,
John Cale,
Dual Sessions,
Jeff Lynne,
Hot Snakes,
Von Mondo,
The Fortunes,
ABBA,
Fluxion,
Junior Murvin,
Bronski Beat,
Oblivians,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gang Starr,
Idris Muhammad,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smoke,
Scrapy,
Skarface,
Lou Christie,
Andrew Hill,
Mission of Burma,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lightning Bolt,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
UT,
Joensuu 1685,
Depeche Mode,
Roxette,
Davy DMX,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.